


Throne of Glass Headcanons

by sarah_bae_maas



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2019-09-07 16:31:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16857466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarah_bae_maas/pseuds/sarah_bae_maas
Summary: Assorted headcanons will be posted here, chapter titles are what they're about :)





	1. ACOTAR and ToG crossover

**ToG and ACOTAR universes meeting**

  * I know you think Aelin and Rhys would be the ultimate Brotp but have you thought of CASSIAN AND AEDION??? I feel like in another life they would’ve been fuck buddies. Just putting it out there.
  * And FENRYS AND CASSIAN??? The best of the friends.
  * Like Aedion and Fenrys would slot perfectly into our bat trio it’s lovely.
  * I feel like Rowan and Azriel would understand each other on a spiritual level. Like something that transcends their different universes. It would’ve gone something like _Azriel:_ Woman are so hard to understand. _Rowan:_ Fuckin tell me about it.
  * AMREN AND MANON GUYS. Like people would be honestly terrified to go into rooms when they are together. Except Elide. She would scoff and act like the two woman are kittens that have escaped their enclosure.
  * Feyre, Mor and Amren would stop and stare eyes wide the moment they saw Fenrys and Connall together. They’d just mutter “Twins? Twinssssss.” Over and over again.
  * Despite the fact that they are all in loving relationships they don’t mind appreciating the obvious good looks of everyone else. However all it takes is one up and down look towards Rowan from Mor at the wrong moment and Aelin snaps. She is the most territorial Fae to ever have lived and the growl she shoots towards Mor makes Feyre go to Mor’s side and bare her own teeth. Upon seeing Feyre, Lysandra backs up Aelin and alllllll the men in the room collectively shit themselves over the possibility of these women fighting each other.
  * It blows over after Lil Evangeline stalks up to Lysandra and pulls her down by her sleeve and whispers something in her ear. Lysandra nods and asks the room where the closest bathroom is. Lucien smiles politely and offers to escort the ‘Little Lady’ (unsurprising Rhys came up with that one) to the bathroom. He holds out his arm for her to take like any gentleman would but she just gasps when she sees him and excitedly says “We match!!” While pointing at the scars on their faces. It breaks the hearts of everyone in the room that Little Lucien and the Little Lady have so much in common. Elain gets especially sad and walks forward and crouches down so that she can be eye level with Evangeline when she talks to her. With that the tension in the room disappears.
  * So like everyone’s met Dorian and Manon and no one can quite figure out if they’re a thing or not??? Like Dorian is this beautiful affectionate soul and Manon is lowkey a monster? Not even a nice monster she’s barely pleasant to anyone. It’s not until they all sit down for dinner or something and Nesta (one of the people Manon likes) and Dorian politely asks her if he can sit there instead. She says yes of course and Dorian sits down and they all start eating in their merry way. Everyone’s eyeing Manon and Dorian (who are subtly holding hands under the table) and she’s honestly so sick of it so when he’s finished eating she turns his face towards her and kisses him hard and deep, pretty much answering anyone’s questions about their relationship. (Feyre and Rhys also catch Manon whispering to Dorian how much she’s loves him when she thinks no one can hear her and the pair find it quite cute honestly.)
  * Rhys and Feyre don’t know whether to like Aelin or be deathly terrified of her. It’s not until they go to the Rainbow and Aelin embraces the music and life that they figure out she’s just like them and no one that appreciates music that much can be that bad.
  * There’s this one very emotional night where they all tell each other their stories. There’s no one in the room who hasn’t gone through something horrible and traumatising and speaking about it with people who really understand is nice. Rhys understands how Aelin can be horribly upset about her past even though she lived in wealth. He understands how she could still care even if she 'wasn’t suffering as much as other people’.
  * Lorcan and Azriel always run into each other in the middle of the night. Like they’re both fetching stuff for their wives but are to cautious to talk to one another. Eventually they do talk to each other when they run into each getting midnight snacks and they actually get on really well. Lorcan understands the dark side to Azriel that he struggles to deal with and Azriel understands how difficult it can be having a unique and rare power.
  * Look, I’m not saying there would be kinky foursomes. But I’m also not saying there wouldn’t be kinky foursomes.
  * Everyone agrees that Fenrys and Connell are the most the most beautiful things to ever be born.
  * So the Cadre are all serving Aelin and wouldn’t have it any other way but it’s also really nice for them to see someone else who is a great ruler and who sincerely cares about that fate of their kingdom.
  * Chaol is fast friends with Tarquin. Both men are new untested/unexpected leaders trying their best to make a difference.
  * Our bat trio challenges Dorian and Chaol to a game of cards thinking they could swindle them but little do they know Dorian’s been doing that to people for years and Chaol’s always been there to back him up. It’s a super intense game that either side is constantly winning and losing.
  * Feyre takes Aelin to that one shop. You know, the one with the underthings. Aelin goes wild and buys so much lingerie that Feyre has to help her carry it back.
  * Mor feels put out that there’s another strong blonde woman taking the attention of her friends but all it takes it one conversation about clothes and Aelin and Mor become besties.
  * Cass and Aedion have a HUGE conversation for hours swapping war tactics and comparing Cassian’s armies to Aedion’s bane. They then have a huge session where they show off all their scars and the stories associated with them all.
  * Lys turns into different people just to fuck with them. Like the inner circle all know that Lys and Aedion together but when they see Aedion kissing some random chick they’re positivity scandalised. And then there’s this Ghost Leopard just following him around and no one knows where it came from. Lys changes into random woman like Aelin of Mor and messes around and waits for someone to notice.
  * Feyre gives Dorian lessons on how to harness his power. Because she has magic from all courts she’s the closest person he’s ever met to having raw magic and to mastering it so she’s actually really helpful. (More helpful than Rowan even).
  * Lucien and Aelin go head to head with their fire magic. They end up just messing around though and playing jokes then it being an actual competition.
  * They all just slot so well together and all enjoy branching out to all these new friends when previously they’ve all been more or less secluded to the same group.




	2. Throne of Glass ladies being territorial

  * So Aelin may go on about Territorial Fae Bastards (ROWAN AND LORCAN IM LOOKING AT YOU) but our lovely ladies are just as bad. 
  * Elide has a thing about Lorcan’s smile. He has this one smile, just a slight tilt to his lips, a sweetness so rare, and anytime a female sees it who is not her she feels like skinning them. She went through a lot to be with this man, step off bitch. 
  * It’s no secret the Fae like to train shirtless. It’s also no secret that when the females aren’t training with them they like to… spectate. One day Aelin and Elide are giggling to each other while watching the cadre and some other female comes over to deliver a letter to Rowan. Aelin doesn’t miss the woman taking her eyes up and down Rowan and the way she tries to subtly touch him. Aelin doesn’t see anything wrong with her going over and dismissing the woman indefinitely from delivering to the palace. 
  * Lysandra has no problem turning into a snow leopard and scaring anyone who glances at Aedion inappropriately. Aedion finds it hilarious every time she’s does. One time he is with a lieutenant in his bane that he once had ~relations~ with and he touches Aedion a little tooooo fondly and Lys turns into the face of his worst nightmares. The lieutenant still works for the Bane, but the message is clear. 
  * The ladies get especially territorial when it’s that time of the month. Luckily Lorcan and Rowan aren’t all that bad at dealing with it. Rowan especially had always known exactly how to care for Aelin, and finds it endearing every time she snarls at someone or pulls him to her side. Her favourite thing to do is get him hot and bothered in front of other woman: her own personal way of marking her territory. 
  * When Aelin bites him, which is often, she likes to make the marks as visible as possible. Aedion groans and cringes every time he sees it but Rowan just grins and tell him he doesn’t want to know about the other ones she’s left. 
  * Manon fucking Blackbeak/Crochan. She has never loved anyone the way she loves Dorian, and she’ll be damned if everyone in the fucking continent doesn’t know it. She used to get weird looks in Adarlan from the citizens, who thought something must be wrong for Dorian to pronounce this witch his queen. It leads to women at social events and whatnot to continue to act like Dorian is the promiscuous prince he was before the war. Jokes on them though because he has zero interest in anyone but Manon. The thing about her though is she isn’t overtly territorial. She laughs and snickers with Asterin about all the foolish woman trying to flirt with her man, and then goes homes and shows him in bed exactly who he belongs to. 
  * Manon is bit of a funny one though and sometimes she can’t help herself. Her and Dorian are at a banquet for Chaol’s birthday and Dorian (honestly this was gong to happen sooner or later) had a few ex lovers there. Manon knew straight away because of the looks they gave the king. However, she isn’t one to flaunt her relationship, so she did subtle things to let the women know Dorian was spoken for. She would kiss him and leave her lip stain on his collar or cheek, she would ran her hands through his hair while they kissed and mess it up in a way that completely and utterly her. The Thirteen would tease it for her but she’d only snarl in return. 
  * Nesryn has never been all that territorial when it comes to who Chaol is with or his interactions with woman, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel anything. When she sees him acting sweet and lovely towards Aelin she can’t help but compare her relationship to theirs. It ends up being Chaol who walks over to her and wraps his arms around her and kisses her until they’re both breathless. 
  * Now lets go back to Aelin because there was a situation. Like a ‘Just That One Time’ kind of situation. Rowan and Aelin went back to Doranelle after the war so that Rowan could properly introduce his wife/mate to his family. Everything was going so well and everyone was having such a good time when who else but Remelle - Rowan’s ex lover - shows up. She claimed she just wanted to see her old friend but her encounter with Celaena before the war never left her mind and her possessiveness of Rowan didn’t either. No matter he was married to the most powerful fae in the world, Remelle decided she wanted some of that action. Well HAHA you fucking idiot Remelle. Remelle tried to corner Rowan one night, and make no mistake he can handle her shit, but when Aelin saw her trying to get all up in her man all hell broke loose. She set Remelle’s hair on fire, not the fake super close version like last time but actually set the bitch on fire. Not only that but every time someone tried to put it out the water would just evaporate before it got anywhere near her. Remelle left screaming her head off but honestly. Second degree burns aren’t that bad she’s just being dramatic. Enda thought it was fucking hilarious and knew why his cousin was destined for this wildfire of a fae. 
  * So picture this. Elide, Lorcan, a pub, and lots and lots of drinking. There are lots of ladies checking out the broody Lorcan, and like he knows but honestly couldn’t give less of a shit. However Elide has had a few and ain’t having it. She drapes herself over the male while he sits on a stool and drunkenly smiles at him. She, as politely as she can, demands that he kiss her as passionately as their first in front of everyone in the tavern and that he profess his love for her. Lorcan thinks she’s mad but does as she says. 
  * When the men were together they always lightly tease the behaviour of their wives, having not realised at all that they are exactly the same.




	3. Manorian's life together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of my favourites!

  * Dorian looked good in his 40s. Manon liked to think he was like an expensive wine, he just got better with age. The years had hardened him – not just to political life and schemes, but his lean body was now broad and strong. Not that of a desk-ridden king, but that of a warrior. But his smile was still that of the princeling she had met all those years ago, and his love her had never faded over time.
  * In their years of marriage, they’d had five children. Three girls and two boys. Their eldest girl was set to rule the Wastes as the first Crochan queen born there in over half a millennium, and their boy, the second eldest of their children, was being prepped to one day take the crown of Adarlan. Manon wouldn’t be opposed to more offspring, it wasn’t like her body was on a timer like mortal women and something about her Crochan blood and Dorian’s raw magic made it much easier for her to get pregnant. She was aware though that the more children she brought into this world with her beloved meant more children who would one day say goodbye to their mortal father.
  * Or worse. Her sons might not be immortal. Her daughters were true witchlings, but her boys might not be true Crochan princes, and if they weren’t, it would mean they were as mortal as their father. Manon did not think she could live through the death of her husband and children.
  * Manon awoke every morning with Dorian wrapped around her, nuzzled into her. She would wake him – he’d sleep through a war these days – and they’d wait in their night clothes for breakfast to be brought to them. They always had eggs, bacon, avocado and fresh bread. Their youngest, a boy of only three years, would be brought in by his nanny and would pinch at their food and shove it into his mouth with a giggle. Their next oldest, a girl, was eight. She would come in with a book under one arm and her breakfast precariously held in the other and was always guided by her next oldest sister of thirteen. Then there was their kingly son, so like Dorian it made Manon smile. He had her white hair, but her husband’s love for books and deep conversation. His eyes were that of Brannon’s, and by the Gods he was lovely. He had girls and boys alike swooning for him, and he was only sixteen. Their eldest would always come towards the end of breakfast. Clad head to toe in armour most days, their daughter was a fearsome, and yet awe-inspiring figure in the kingdom. At twenty-two, she had already raged war and been a huntress for years. She was witch through and through and as deadly and calculating as her mother. She did nothing without thinking of every possible outcome beforehand. But she was also gentle, and kind, and let her siblings crawl all over her while they begged for stories from distant lands. She would sometimes steal them away and take them distant places on her wyvern, and Manon and Dorian happily let her. They knew she could care for them as well as she could care for herself.  
  * They were well adjusted to their happy lives. Dorian loved Manon more every day, and to show that love before dinner, when they’d been separated for most of the day, both he and Chaol would walk to the markets and buy their wives flowers. Just the one, and every day it would be swapped out with the oldest that was there so there was always a bouquet for them.  
  * Running two kingdoms between them and raising five children wasn’t a walk in the park, but they made it work. Most days, the children would stay with Dorian while Manon and their eldest daughter worked in the Wastes. Dorian would always greet Manon home with an embrace that lifted her off her feet and made their thirteen-year-old cringe and wrinkle her nose from embarrassment. They always, _always_ had dinner together, where they would ask their children about their days and listen in vivid detail. Once, Manon worked herself and Abraxos into a panic because she was going to be late to dinner. It was supposed to be an hour beforehand, and in another half hour was bedtime. She couldn’t bear the thought of her babies going to sleep without her saying goodnight, and by the time she was back in Rifthold and storming up the stairs it was well past both. She raced into their bedrooms to find them all empty. Confused as all hell, she checked the dining room to find it the same. Needing answers, she went to Dorian’s office hoping to find him there at the least, and what she saw brought her to tears. He had set up blankets and pillows, making a fort. They were all there with candles and books, even her youngest who at the time was barely one. There were cakes, chocolate and ice cream littering most surfaces, including their faces. But they were all awake, and all waiting for her.
  * “We couldn’t wait for dinner, but we couldn’t let you miss dessert,” Dorian said upon her appearance.
  * They stayed like that until morning. Manon was packing everything up and Dorian was taking the children to their rooms when her eldest stopped to help her. “I hope to have something like this one day. A family, with someone I love that fiercely,” she said.
  * “You will, my beautiful daughter, when the time is right, and sometimes even when it’s not.”
  * And every night, when the day was done and even the sun was sleeping, Dorian would worship Manon like she was a goddess. He may still have the smile of his younger self, but he also had the stamina. And constant bursts of magic helped keep said magic under control after all.
  * Time seemed to fly quicker than the fastest wyverns for them. It was like every five minutes they had a child coming to age, and when their youngest boy fell in love with an Ashryver prince and moved to Wendlyn, Dorian started to really feel his seniority. He would laugh it off, glad for the grandchildren that now ran the halls of the castle and filled his life with light. But he also worried for his wife. Dorian was aging, and Manon was not. A time would come when he’d enter the Darkness and she would not.
  * Dorian’s age was irrelevant to Manon. She looked at him and still saw her youthful husband, even as his hair turned silver and his eyes needed lenses to see straight, even as he started walking with a cane. They would walk as though he was a young gentleman courting a fine lady, with their elbows linked together, but really it was to keep him upright. Sometimes, when Dorian’s breathing would hitch at night, Manon would burst awake just to make sure he was okay.
  * She would never admit it to him, but she wished she was like the fae so that she might age gracefully with him. Die with him.
  * Dorian knew he was coming to the end of his very long, very happy life. He was a centurion, and he was having the health problems that came with it. Chaol and Yrene had passed years before, and his children were now parents. His son was ready to take the throne, Dorian made sure of it, even if the mere suggestion made his baby boy tear up and growl with denial. When Dorian became bedridden was when he became worried – not for himself, but for Manon, who was in complete and utter denial about the inevitability of his death.
  * Manon didn’t acknowledge that it was time for her husband’s passing until he woke one morning and tried to go to the training yards, insisting that Chaol was waiting for him there. “He’ll beat my ass if I’m late,” Dorian chuckled. Manon was mortified. Sure, his memory had been slipping of late – dates forgotten, dinners he didn’t show up to without her prompting, names not recalled, but this scared her. This was bigger, and it was only the beginning. He thought their daughter’s son was their own, he wondered where Abraxos had gone off to when the Wyvern had flown into the Darkness the previous decade. There was no consistency to his memory. It ebbed and flowed randomly, and there were days where he was wholly there, and others when he woke in a sweat thinking they were still at war with Erawan.
  * Healers were at his side constantly, and their son was coronated before Dorian’s passing. Dorian watched from the audience, a proud smile on his face. The healers said there was nothing they could do, and Manon denied it right up until Dorian forgot her too. He would remark that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and when she would remind him she was his wife, the purest smile would cross his face. “Surely not,” he would always say, but there was still hope in his voice that the lovely woman in front of him was. She would always kiss him sweetly, their hands linked, and tell him the stories from their life together. Their first I-love-you, their wedding, every time they realised she was pregnant, teaching their children to walk and ride their wyverns, comforting them in their first breakups, going to their weddings, seeing them grow into wonderful little things. She would remind him of what Chaol said before he died, about how much his brother-in-arms loved him. She would tell him of their adventures with Abraxos, riding the skies and going wherever the wind took them.
  * Manon was by his side as their family came to say their goodbyes. Their children wept, their grandchildren tried to stay strong for their parents but could barely conceal their tears, their great-grandchildren were too young to understand what was going on. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius came with her King, both as youthful as ever, and sobbed through a farewell. “I will always remember and cherish your kindness while I was your champion and you were my prince. I will always remember the dancing and books, and I will always remember that even if I had nowhere to go, I could still go to you. I love you, Dorian. I will never forget you.”
  * Manon lied at his side as his breathing became weaker. She dismissed the healers. Her children went to their rooms.
  * “I will come find you in the Darkness, my love. You won’t be waiting long.”
  * It is said over fires across the land that the legendary queen of the Crochans died of a broken heart. That if the stars align just right on the perfect day, a young darked haired man bolts the through libraries calling for his witchling, only to disappear into walls and books. It is said she is never far behind, a wyvern following her every step as she runs to find her princeling.




	4. Malide smut

  * Elide was frustrated at every waking moment. She needed a release, and Gods she needed one badly.


  * She was in the bath after a long day of meetings with tedious councilmen and women. She was supposed to see Manon and Asterin, but of course her work had gotten in the way. So soon after the war and Perranth was a bustling place, its population rebuilding so quickly it was hard to keep up with.
  * It meant that she didn’t have much time to herself, and certainly no time to take care of her womanly needs.
  * She was thinking of this while she bathed, the rich scents of her bath oils intoxicating. The steaming water was exactly what she needed, and she ran her hands over her body to wash herself lightly.
  * When it came to her breasts, she stopped. A thought crossed her mind, one that had before but one she’d never been able to explore.
  * Elide did not need the touch of another to relieve herself.
  * She thought of the things Aelin had told her of her fae lover, the things he had done to pleasure her. Elide wasn’t wholly sure how to pleasure herself, but the sudden, low throbbing in her lower half suggested her body wanted her to try.
  * So Elide let her hands squeeze her breasts, and then pinch at her erect nipples. Swallowing hard at the strange but nice sensation, she moved her hands again. Lower. Right to the apex of her thighs.
  * Elide was building a steady rhythm with her fingers, gasping at the feeling, working them in a way to find exactly what felt best. It was hard though, she didn’t know exactly where to touch or feel.
  * She was so distracted she didn’t notice when Manon opened her bedroom door, calling her name. Nor did she notice when Manon opened her bathroom door. It wasn’t like the women hadn’t seen each other’s bodies before. The Thirteen weren’t shy when it came to nudity.
  * Elide only stopped when Manon said her name quietly.
  * Elide when beet red, fumbling around and snapped her hand away from herself. “Oh _Gods_ , Manon, what are you doing here?”
  * “We had plans.”
  * “That I cancelled!”
  * “What are you doing, Elide?”
  * The question hung heavy in the air and Elide was so mortified she wanted to drown herself in the massive bathtub. It was so awkward she didn’t even care when Manon stepped forward, her eyes taking in Elide’s body.
  * Elide mumbled that it was pretty obvious was she was doing, not that she was doing it particularly well.
  * Manon grinned, her iron teeth glinting in the candlelight.
  * And then she offered her help.
  * Elide’s eyes widened at the suggestion. She might be even more embarrassed at the thought, if she couldn’t tell Manon was being serious and how her core ached at the prospect.
  * She nodded, and Manon stalked forward and knelt beside her, reaching one hand into the water.
  * Manon knew exactly what she was doing and Elide melted under her watch. It was a sensation she had never felt before, and one she knew she would want more and more. What she had been doing was nothing compared to the way Manon pleasured her, and holy gods if Manon had been human or fae she might have suspected she was doing this to her with magic.
  * It didn’t take long for Elide to finish, her moan a choked gasp as Manon leant forward and nipped at her ear – iron teeth and all, her fingers massaging her all the way through her orgasm.
  * When it was over, and Elide was blubbering beneath her, Manon simply smiled and said, “It was nice catching up with you,” before sashaying out.




	5. Rowaelin cuddling/sleeping

  * Running a queendom is exhausting work. It’s not unusual at all for Rowan to find Aelin napping in random places at sporadic times of the day. It might worry him, but she still slept like the dead at night.
  * Once, he found her passed out on the large couch that is in her office. She was twisting and turning in her sleep, her legs going every which way, and Rowan could tell it was because she was uncomfortable. He didn’t want to carry her through the castle to their chambers, so he sent a servant to tell his associates that Rowan would not be returning to work for the next hour or so. He knelt down next to her and bundled her up in his arms, before lying them both down in a way he knew would feel better for her. She awoke an hour and a half later bleary eyed. The moment she saw him she smiled and kissed his cheek, snuggling into him.
  * There are five ways they usually sleep. The first is facing each other with their legs touching but their hands between them as the only link in their bodies. The second is wrapped up in each other completely – Aelin’s back pressed to Rowan’s chest. Next is on their backs and separate but with Rowan holding Aelin’s hand to his chest, just like at Mistward. Fourth is the times when Rowan is the little spoon, and purrs as Aelin plays with his hair. And the last is something Rowan started doing the first time Aelin fell pregnant. He would lay half way down the bed with his legs sprawled to avoid them dangling off the edge, with his face pressed to the side of her stomach and one hand wrapped around her hips. It was bizarre, but it helped keep his fae stress at edge while his mate was pregnant.
  * Aelin loved to be close to Rowan while they slept, but in as many waking moments as she could. Why? Fear. Love. Fear that she would one day lose the one she loved so much. Some nights she was haunted by what she had seen in the war, and what it could have been. During the days after those dreams, she would keep close to him. She would hold his hand while they walked. Tap his foot with hers under the table while they ate with their family. Wrap his arms around her middle and relax back into him and his scent. Any chance to have him close to her she would take.
  * There were times when Rowan had to leave her, and Aelin was embarrassed about how hard it was to sleep without him. She would joke to him that without his overgrown body taking up the whole bed she might finally get a decent night’s sleep without him, but the truth was those hours were spent tossing while wide awake. She would never admit it – she knew if she told him he would stay, but there was work in the kingdom that needed to be done. To make up for it, sometimes she napped with Lysandra or threw herself into some task to distract herself. It was easier once they started having children, because then she could just snuggle up to her baby while they waited for Papa to come home.
  * Rowan was no better. He longed for her the moments they weren’t together, even if it was just a hand on her shoulder or as a soldier standing at her side. Sometimes he had to roll his eyes at himself on how much he was acting like a ‘territorial fae bastard.’
  * He used to think there was nothing better than having her enveloped in him. Whether it be during sex or just hugging her close, it was all he ever needed to feel content. His favourite moments were when she wasn’t expecting it. He would just tug her close, and it was like she was deflating as the weight of the world finally left her shoulders. He would lean down to be as close to her as he could, so close that he could feel her heartbeat.




	6. Manorian undressing

  * As far as Manon and Dorian are concerned, there’s only one good way to undress.
  * Manon would wait for Dorian. He usually had a drink with Chaol after dinner, so she got to their chambers before him. She could, easily, change herself, but why would she do that when she had zero intention of wearing nightwear?
  * So she’d wait. At the beginning of their relationship, after they’d decided to live together, she’d always position herself around the room in creatively seductive ways. She’d lie on the bed on her stomach with her legs crossed and ass perked up. She’d sit in one of their reading chairs and undo just the top button of her shirt, making sure to stick out her chest. She’d conveniently be ready to bathe just as he got back.
  * She found that what led him to him being the filthiest was when she was looking through the books in his shelf. She would be nonchalantly (but not really) browsing the books, maybe one open in her hand, when he’d come up behind her and wrap his arms around her tightly, kissing her neck and jaw. With a grind of her ass against him, he would untie the strings on her shirt and that was that.
  * Manon had literally ripped off Dorian’s shirts many a time. Sometimes when she really shouldn’t, like when he took her quickly at lunch in a closest and was then forced to walk through the castle either shirtless or with it in strings to get a new one.
  * There were other times though, when their need to rip each other’s clothes off had nothing to do with sex or carnal hunger.
  * Once, Dorian came home from an incredibly rough day weary and tired and flopped onto their bed without a word. Manon asked what was wrong, but his exhaustion meant his grumbles were unintelligible. She went over to him and stroked his back, making a smile appear on his face. She kissed him before helping him remove his dirty clothing – a surprisingly intimate act. She shed her own clothes before sliding in next to him, hugging his back to her chest and stroking his hair.
  * Also, shoes. Dorian never failed to take off her shoes if she was passed out on the couch for a nap or on their bed after a long day’s work. He would wake her up to change her clothing, or just let her sleep in her day clothes, it didn’t bother him, but he knew she hated the feeling of waking up with boots or socks on.
  * As their relationship grew, so did the way they undressed.
  * When Manon was pregnant, he always helped her into her too-tight clothes and then her pretty loose dresses, and always made sure to tie her laces double knotted because she could no longer bend down to do it herself if they became undone. At the end of the day, he’d help her out of her clothing again and give her a massage.
  * When the baby was born, Dorian would wait to see what Manon was wearing so he could dress their baby in matching clothes. This made Manon roll her eyes, and by the end of the day she’d always undressed their little baby and put them in something less… over the top.
  * When Dorian got older, and his joints didn’t work quite as well as they did when he was younger, Manon would sneakily help him. She didn’t want to make it too obvious, she wasn’t his nanny, but she also hated seeing the way his face would contort with discomfort when he did it himself.
  * She would also parade around in nothing but her skin, so he couldn’t feel bad for aging – for not being able to do the things with her he used to.
  * When Dorian passed into the Darkness, Manon wore nothing but black until the day she followed him, where she knew that wherever he was on the other side, he would be the one to take it off her and bring colour back to her.




	7. Elide and Lorcan go to Perranth

  * Aelin wanted to go with them when Elide and Lorcan finally made the journey to Perranth, to pronounce her as the Lady, but Elide didn’t want that. She wanted the city to herself, to be able to work through the rubble without the pressure of staying strong for her queen looming over her. She also wanted to enjoy the ride there with her husband, finally doing what they had wanted to for months.
  * The ride to Perranth was climactic, literally. Every time they had a chance Lorcan was slipping his hands under her clothes and her lips were on his. His height and strength had never been as handy as they were when he’d taken her against trees, keeping her upright and tight to him.
  * She also prided herself on the sounds he made when her mouth was on him, it was unlike anything she’d heard before.
  * The months with him were the best of her life and waking to him every day had been a gift. Lorcan felt the same way, constantly amazed that this woman was with him, had chosen him, that by some twist in fate was his beautiful eternal mate.
  * When they arrived into Perranth, the populous had started to rebuild already. Grateful for her bravery in the war, they prepared her old home for her. Elide was taken aback, and a little ashamed. That work could have gone towards orphanages, homes, roads, stores, and it had gone to her parent’s estate. Well, her and Lorcan’s estate now, she guessed. She thanked them profusely, but also quickly dismissed them so they could return to their families.
  * Lorcan was glad to be alone with her. With every step into the city, he noticed new things. Firstly, when people eyed him it was either in revere or in fear – something he needed to work on. And secondly, Elide became more reserved, more quiet, her hands clenching over and over again and her breathing becoming tense. Her eyes would dart around her and she saw a city still half in ruins, and become wide as she heard laughter, or children, and then flinch as she heard the sound of construction.
  * He asked her if she was okay, and he thought she might lie when she whispered _no_ under her breath, before turning and flinging herself at him. The sun was setting, leaving an orange glow to her skin as she cried into his arms, overwhelmed that they were finally home.
  * She showed him their house first. The library, empty of books and furniture. The dining room, the many bedrooms that weren’t used even before the wars. They got to the end of a long hallway, and Lorcan went to open a door when Elide stopped him.
  * “Is it your parents?” he asked.
  * “No.”
  * “Yours?”
  * She shook her head, and he understood.
  * “Do you want me to burn it?”
  * “I never want our children in the room of a monster.”
  * “Then it will be gone within the month.”
  * After the encounter with her uncle’s room, she showed them to her parent’s suite. He didn’t ask if it would become their room, he knew she wasn’t ready for that, and instead he let her gently lead him to her childhood room.
  * It only had a bed, but there were pictures, the drawings of a young child, still hung on her walls. He inspected them all, a great sadness overcoming him at a portrait of Elide and her mother. The girl was so young, bright and glowing and oblivious to what she was to face in the coming decades.
  * When he was preparing for bed, she came to him in a cloak, her riding boots on and hair braided back. “There is more I must show you, but I don’t want an audience.”
  * Elide didn’t say anything to him as they rode through the city, feeling drowned by the memories suffocating her. They passed an old well, where she had once played skip for hours with the other children. Now, she didn’t dare jump, her ankle sore from the simple act of walking. Yrene was going to send her a healer, but wanted to choose the best from her Torre. Elide didn’t mind the delay.
  * There was a torched field that once had an elaborate maze and garden, the local meeting point for many who lived there. It was now a mass grave, marked only by a small plaque, and also where her father was executed. Elide would change the plaque. She would erect a mighty memorial in tribute to all those who had lost their lives in the valg wars.
  * There were the bones of buildings, one that had once upon a time been her favourite bakery, where her mum would take her at dusk to buy a special treat for after dinner.
  * It got to the point where she had to voice what she was thinking. The stories of her home poured from her as they rode through the ruined or half-built streets. It was cathartic, and she found her mood lightening. Soon, she was smiling as she recounted for him, laughing even, their hands linked in the space between them as they rode side by side.
  * Lorcan was admiring the moon’s light on her face when she abruptly went silent. He looked up, too distracted by her twinkling laughter to really notice where they were going – a shield he would only let down around her. In front of them loomed a great tower, high enough that at its peak you’d likely be able to see the whole city.
  * Elide stepped down from her horse and he followed, stepping close to her side as she took in the structure.
  * “This is it,” she said quietly.
  * “Elide-”
  * “My solace is that he is locked up like I was. But he’s never getting out of his tower.” She looked at him, all happiness gone. “I want to show you. But I also don’t want you to see.”
  * “I understand.”
  * They looked at it for what felt like forever, before Elide slowly approached the entrance. The door was locked, but that didn’t stop Lorcan from opening it for her.
  * It was a dusty, unused place. It clearly had sat vacant after Vernon had sent Elide to Morath.
  * It looked like a lighthouse in design, the winding stone staircase going up and up with rooms always in the same place on every floor blocked by giant wooden doors. At the top was when Elide stopped, placing her hands on the door and resting her forehead against the timber.
  * Lorcan wondered which stairs she fell down to break her ankle.
  * Elide opened the door to a barren room. Nothing that had been in there when she lived there was still present. With the exception of some bolts secured into the walls. Ones that her chains would be attached to.
  * Lorcan stepped in front of her and inspected the space, not saying a word. He didn’t know if there were words to convey the disgust he was feeling.
  * “My bed was here,” she pointed out. “And I had a dresser here with some clothing, and there used to be a mirror but I smashed it by accident, and he thought I was trying to hurt myself, so he took it away. I only ever saw myself when I went to the bathing chamber, and I was always supervised.”
  * She told him stories of Finnula, her nursemaid, who was always as kind as she could be. She helped Elide in ways her mother would have, if she had been alive. Like her first bleeding, where she didn’t understand what was happening and couldn’t contain her fear. Or when her ankle broke, and she desperately needed medical attention but only could receive hugs. The human contact helped ease the pain of her soul, but not that of her body.
  * By the end, he held her tightly against him as they looked out the window that had been the only view into the innocent life that had been eviscerated when her parents died.
  * “I’m so happy to be here, but I didn’t think it would be so hard,” she said.
  * They both cried in mourning for the city they would spend their lives rebuilding. The city they would raise their children in, grow old in, die peacefully in. When dawn came so would another day, and never again would they let their people suffer as they had; Elide swore it, and Lorcan would honour her every wish.




End file.
